


Bound since Antiquity

by jaydenmaeda



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Anal, Ancient Greece, Ancient Greece AU, Bittersweet, Dicks, Drama, Falling In Love, Gay, M/M, Philosophy, balls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27664343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaydenmaeda/pseuds/jaydenmaeda
Summary: Ouma had ambitions of his own, but the temptation of his superior lingered constantly in his mind. What was a teenage boy to do in the arid heat of Athens?
Relationships: Oma Kokichi & Saihara Shuichi, Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	Bound since Antiquity

Three days had passed since the gruelling ignition of Athens. 

An orchestra of suppressed political contentions had awakened within Kokichi Ouma and unfurled into a blossoming crescendo, purging his body of cowardice and shame. Though the execution had taken no less than two weeks, and the preparation of more months than he could count, his scheme had succeeded. 

Ouma had heard tales of war weaponry from various old farts within his village. During sea-front battles, many Greek soldiers manufactured clay bombs filled with quicklime and naphtha. When thrown in the water, the quicklime produced enough heat to ignite the naphtha- a devastating outcome for any potential enemies. 

Pottery was a laborious process, and Ouma had loathed each agonizing second of it. He often recalled the proceeding- his blithe fingers, skillfully moulding hunks of clay into quintessential little pots. They were shallow and round, with holes the width of three fingers. Almost as wide as his asshole.

Though his parents had been confused at first, they eventually grew fond of their sons' excessive and somewhat concerning pottery collection. 'They're decorations,' he had muttered, 'For all of the flowers I'll give to my wife.' 

His parents, in all their despondency, were utterly clueless. They remained stoic even as he burned countless seashells, ignorant of their chemical properties. When degraded thermally, seashells were reduced to a fine powdery substance that expressed copious amounts of heat when exposed to water. Sea-water conjured a heightened exothermic reaction.

Hence, it was the perfect compound for igniting naphtha. 

The process of travelling to and from the ocean shore peculated many hours of Ouma’s time. With wooden buckets, he had assembled countless of gallons of sea-water. Said buckets were dispersed throughout Athens and centred in densely populated areas, where many political powers resided. 

The collection of naphtha was the most challenging aspect of his plan. Fortunately, his petite frame had sparked the interest of the Areopagus Archon many months ago: Saihara Shuichi, an official representative of the court who had access to the resources of the Polemarch. 

Ouma had many meetings with him, and all were romantic in nature. Most afternoons, Ouma would lay peacefully in his lap, basking in the light of his affection. Shuichi would murmur soft mythos as he stroked lilac tufts of his hair, warmly brushing away any debris or imperfections. 

Initially, he presumed that his presence was sought after for sexual gratification. He had presented himself as nothing more than an air-headed little twink, a cocksleeve to be used whenever it was required of him. But Shuichi was reluctant to make any such advances. 

Though their relationship had never transgressed into anything promiscuous, the bond they had formed was undeniable. With the political power he held, Shuichi could do anything he wanted to Ouma's twinkish little body. But he hadn't. Perhaps that was why he was so fond of the Archon. 

When he had the opportunity, Ouma requested to wonder about the halls of the Polemarch. Shuichi merely ascribed curiosity to the teenage boy and complied without question. 

The structure was elegiac exterior-wise, with a functional interior- the perfect storage room for weaponry. Many sealed barrels were placated there, existing soundlessly in the insidious halls. Mired by the scent of fuel, Ouma knew he had found what he had been seeking for the past few months. 

"Can I see inside the barrels?" He had cooed, tugging on the soft wool of Shuichi's toga. The presumption of innocence was simple enough to encompass, especially with the Archons’ undivided loyalty and trust.

With an adoring smile, Shuichi had nodded. "Alright, but this is our little secret, okay?" 

He had formulated the discussion within his mind for many hours. In Ancient Greece, a man in power desired nothing less than an obedient, excessively dense twink: someone eager to impress and please his master by any means necessary. 

"I think the colour is pretty. Can I please have some?" He blurted, fighting to suppress the stress-induced flushing of his cheeks.

Shuichi chuckled in bewilderment. "It's fuel, Ouma. It's not paint." Had Ouma been in a healthy state of mind, he may have found the Archon’s unguarded expressions rather endearing. Maybe even cute. But the pessimist inside of his adrenal glands flooded his body with noradrenalin.

"I can use it as paint!" He murmured, intertwining his fingers with the older man. 

"Don't be silly. It would be a mess. And it smells foul!"

"Pleeeasseeee," he whined, the desperation staining his features, "You said this was our secret, so I think this would be more special than any other kind of paint. Nobody would know, only you. My father has yellow dye, I'll just dilute the naphtha, so it actually functions as a medium. I promise it will work. If it doesn't, you can berate me for my insolence. I'll do anything for you!”

“It's always you doing things for me; you feed me, pet me, gift me robes and sandals, and shower me with affection. It's never me doing anything! So, please, let me do something nice for you!" 

His face was wet with emotion, mouth stinging from the deranged string of lies that had lept from his throat. He wasn't sure why he was crying. Obviously, the scheme he had been fostering for months relied on this moment, but, for some reason, his heart ached with a unique kind of pain. It was distinguishable from the unhinged agony that arose at the prospect of his plan failing. 

In all of his weeping and shaking, Shuichi had succumbed to the act. "Okay, Ouma. You're too cute for me to deny this request. Fetch a bucket from my quarters, and I will fill it to the brim with this naphtha." He smiled, brushing Ouma's chin with a tentative thumb. 

"Don't fret anymore. I don't mind doing this for you." 

_______________

Ouma had obtained all he sought after. His conquest of the Archon’s trust had been cemented between their two bodies; in subdued glances and sweet gestures. It would be a lie to infer that his feelings for Shuichi were merely a byproduct of his end goal. No, in the end, he was captivated by the beautiful mysticism of his character, impassioned by the charm of his political enemy. 

But he only had one option. 

And, on his day of reckoning, Athens was set alight. A political uprising of sorts, a means to disrupt the internal democratic framework. 

It wasn't as though he detested democracy- he merely detested the _way_ in which the Athenian democracy was upheld. Those eligible to be involved in political affairs were male citizens, which accounted for a mere ten percent of the Athenian population. The remaining ninety percent- slaves, non-citizens, and women, were excluded entirely from political engagement. 

Responsibilities within Ancient Greece were prominently divided by sex, and this was extended to political rights. As for the non-citizen males and slaves, their exclusion was a reflection of their socioeconomic standing. Where there was no money, there was no power.

Before Solon's reformation in 593 BCE, the Areopagus remained at the centre of Athenian political life. Membership within the court was dictated through birthright, and so political activity was restricted to influential families. These members remained in service for a lifetime. 

Essentially, citizens of lower wealth and power were excluded from political affairs.

But, fortunately for Ouma, he lived in an age that recognised all men, provided they were citizens, were eligible for having their voices known in the political world (to a minor extent.) 

Since boyhood, he found himself questioning the metric by which political engagement was anointed. Why were slaves and non-citizens residing in Athens intrinsically less valuable than those who were citizens? Why were women excluded entirely, regardless of their citizenship? Why was slavery condoned in the first place?

His neo-liberal neurological fissures and grooves told him that this process was relatively fucked up. So he set fire to the dystopian hellscape.

_______________

The Areopagus was a court that prevailed throughout Athens' oligarchy and was politically reformed in a myriad of ways before the democratic government transpired. Within the oligarchy, the top government positions were endured by those of the Aristocracy or the elite class. 

During the democratic period in which Ouma resided, the Areopagus was a court for dealing with intentional homicide and wounding. Thus, his position within the court at present was not extraordinary. 

The 'court' of discussion was less of a Greco-Roman architectural masterpiece and more of a rock outcropping. Encapsulated by the viridescent pine corpus, the belay rock was expansive enough to accommodate even the most substantial meetings.

Ouma felt more at ease being outside. If his execution was to be decided following his trial, it would be significantly easier to flee in any direction, although the discordant sunlight on his unpigmented skin was somewhat unpleasant.

Mired by the scenic perspective of the Areopagus, it was simple to forget about the sanguinary pile of entrails beside his feet. The extraction of viscera from a boar, ram and bull was a custom sanctioned by Athenian law- the beasts were slain as sacrifices, and their innards used to seal the oath of a defendant. 

As unfortunate as it was, he had known who his judge would be.

Adorned with a luxurious white-wool toga, the Archon sat atop a polished boulder, his legs crossed sweetly. "Your oath is due, Kokichi Ouma." 

His voice, once smooth and warm, had digressed into a callous and sour tone, adulterating the air as hungry eyes glinted behind a mosaic of black strands.

Without breathing, Ouma proclaimed his oath, flinching at the resentment on Shuichis’ face. "I invoke destruction upon myself, my kindred, and my household. And my balls."

His audience consisted solely of old men, their faces lost in a swarm of wrinkles and grey hair. As it stood, his trial seemed awfully similar to the set of some low-budget twink fuckfest. 

"The council has filed its accounts with the Board of Auditors and has submitted to their examination. Your charge is arson, attempted genocide, and...deception of a court official."

"Okay!" He smiled, fretting his lilac strands with a nervous finger. "I did all of it! I'd do it again, too!"

“That is displeasing to hear. You feel no remorse for the destruction you’ve caused?” Though disturbed, Ouma couldn’t find any inkling of surprise on his face.

“Not in the slightest! This isn’t a real democracy, anyway- you pick and choose the voices you want to hear. If a slave wanted a government-funded asshole bleaching service in the outskirts of Athens, I believe his request would be worthy of serious consideration! Not due to the nature of his request, but because his political involvement is essential for a functioning democracy!” 

“The defendant will remain silent until prompted further.”

“Hey, will this be a fair trial, or are you going to smite me regardless of anything I say because of my political views?” Ouma protested, somewhat indignantly.

"No convicted defendant and no defeated prosecutor have ever made any good complaint against the verdict given. This tribunal maintains its high repute in the city."

"Likely due to the execution or exile of said defendants and prosecutors, right?" He murmured, blinking sweetly at Shuichi. 

His words were met with a cold gaze. Though it was unnerving, Ouma sensed a glint of desire in the jade plumes that had encapsulated his trembling body. 

"So, if I had deliberately murdered some slaves, I wouldn't have been called here for a trial?"

"You would be charged for damaging property. How does an Athenian citizen such as yourself remain so ignorant of our laws😠 ?" He barked, his gaze betraying the harshness of his words.

"Why do political placements hold precedence over human life? It's not like I care or anything- it just seems like you people with the most political power and knowledge would recognize that we're all equal in that we're all fundamentally the same, slaves and citizens alike." 

He was unmoved by the gasps and jeers which emanated from his ballsack-ridden audience. His little speech had been dismissed with a firm gesture of the hand, swept away with the compassionate wind. 

"The Gods have slaves, and the Gods would not endorse a practice that is not pious. Thus, owning slaves is pious, as is the distinction between citizens and slaves. They are not our equals and should not be treated as such- under any circumstances." 

"I don’t really care what the Gods think. If they cared about the inbred shit-worms that I burned to death, maybe they should have stopped me- does their silence mean they condone my actions?” 

Ouma knew, of course, of the dire need for philosophical discussion in Athens. If the Gods loved piety because it was pious, then the omnipotence of the Gods was limited as morality could exist without divine intervention. If piety was pious _because_ the Gods loved it, then morality would unequivocally be arbitrary, and this would produce incorrect reasons for moral actions. Piety essentially became a different standard from the Gods.

Rather than utilizing internal standards for solving ethical problems, Athenian society promoted the somewhat asinine inference of divine influence in daily life. Polytheism of anthropomorphic supernatural beings produced issues in establishing that which was holy and unholy, since humanlike entities harboured human tendencies.

But, Ouma also knew that the suppression of philosophical discussion was crucial for controlling the people of Athens. The reality of that claim was evident on the Archon’s defeated face.

"An additional charge of impiety has been noted. If the court sees fit, I will be holding Kokichi Ouma in captivity until sunrise tomorrow morning, where we shall hold a public execution." 

_______________

Ouma found that his position in Shuichis’ quarters was rather erotic. With his feet and hands bound, he relied on the tenderness of the Archon’s pervaded heart. He knew he was irrevocably fucked. And yet, he awaited his execution with a child-like sense of glee. 

The mere thought of inciting a political overthrow- though gradual and full of bloodshed- was ripe and piquant in Ouma’s psyche. His death would ignite the dormant flames of the peoples’ fury. The oppression, affliction and widespread erasure of non-citizens, slaves and women alike; would crackle in the ashes of the rebellion. 

Or so he had hoped.

Shuichi had been watching him for quite some time now, dumbfounded by the events which had transpired. Though, sure enough, it didn’t take too long for his spirit to corrode.

“Why?” Shuichi groaned, collapsing pathetically on the marbled floors. 

“Isn’t it obvious? I believe all humans are equal, regardless of their socioeconomic status or the titles we ascribe to them.” He giggled, struggling to readjust the Bernie 2020 pin on his robe before remembering his hands were bound. 

After a few moments of pregnant silence, Shuichi extended a tentative hand towards his face. "Was everything an act?" He murmured, deftly stroking the pale skin of Ouma’s cheek.

“It doesn’t really matter. I’m just a citizen, and you’re an Archon.” 

Sighing with defeat, Shuichi removed the restraints from Oumas’ wrists and ankles. “Run away with me.” He whispered.

Ouma widened his eyes in shock. “What are you talking about, you stupid gay bitch?! You believe in everything I despise, so I’m a little annoyed at you right now. Why would I run away with a megalomaniac like you? 🙄 ”

“Don’t you love me🥺 ?” Shuichi whimpered, resting his head on his lap. 

“You’re fucking crazy! You have mental problems! Get away from me right now...😏 ” Blushing profusely, Ouma felt deeply ashamed by his own arousal. Perhaps the conservatives were right… Homosexuals really _were_ animals.

But, then again, all humans were animals. There was no shame in being of mammalian descent.

That’s what he told himself as he grabbed a fistful of Shuichi's raven locks and stuck his tongue down his throat. They stayed like that for a while, their tongues wrestling for dominance as the candlelight grew dim. 

Ouma realised that there were no opposing sides in politics- there were merely those in power and those lacking power. The vast majority of Athenians lacked any such power- thus control was implemented to prevent a political overthrow.

If time could speak, it would surely allude to the tired tradition of those in power rejecting humanity and intrinsic morality. The suffering of the masses was overlooked in favour of the prosperous few. 

He and Shuichi couldn’t remain together. Not after this, anyway.

As the Archons’ massive cock plummeted in and out of his asshole, hitting his prostate with each deep thrust, he knew that there was an important lesson to be learned. The human world was framed by polarity. 

As an individual, you either strived to propagate society or resisted progression and embraced tradition.

With each tentative lick of his nipples, Ouma felt his cock become closer and closer to bursting. The two were enclosed in a final embrace- his legs wrapped around Shuichi’s waist, fingers tangled in his hair, and lips pressed against the left side of his neck. 

Ouma thought about Platos’ _Allegory of the Cave_ , wherein his asshole was the cave, and Shuichis' sperm were little prisoner men. With their necks and bodies chained in place, figures elapsed in front of a fire (a fart 💨 ) that burned far behind the prisoners' heads, casting intricate shadows on the walls that they watched eagerly. 

The cave dwellers took pride in their sophistication and wisdom of the shadows, which they surmised were accurate depictions of reality. 

One prisoner was released from within the darkness of the cave, and his eyes adjusted to the light of the sun, revealing a new perspective as he encountered true forms and grasped the sublime vastness of the universe.

However, with compassion, the former cave-dweller whose intellect had been garbed with the ideas of inscrutable enlightenment chose to descend back into the cave and dwell once more. Unfortunately, the remaining dwellers were incapable of recognizing him- he was a distorted shadow, and they lacked the comprehension in understanding his stories from experience outside of the cave.

The allegory's underlying implication is that the reality of the cave is not impacted by the ignorance of the cave dwellers. Their own inability to grasp and understand those new convolutions harboured no impact on the philosophical dynamic between the cave, and the world outside of the cave. 

Allegorically, the prisoners were humans before the birth of philosophy, the sun was the light of reason, and the entire text was an array of symbolism demonstrating the socio-political position of philosophy within Ancient Greece. The ‘phantoms’ which Socrates describes are the convoluted Athenian projections of religion, morality and justice.  
  
  
It was something that couldn't be fixed by Ouma alone. Athenians were comfortable within their ignorance and even became hostile when that ignorance was threatened- this was demonstrated swiftly in the trial and execution of Socrates in 399 BC.   
  
  
As he sat next to Shuichi, cum dribbling out of his asshole, he wondered which world he was in. The slumbering form beside him seemed real enough. His love seemed real enough.   
  


The real world of truth and knowledge was immaterial and beyond his perception, and the material world was constantly changing and difficult to define. Plato believed that the immaterial world was composed of perfect forms and ideas, and that the reason we objected to injustice was that we were subconsciously accessing this non-physical world of being. 

Ouma wondered if he and Shuichi were together in the perfect, non-physical, immaterial world. 

He came to the conclusion that they probably weren’t. 


End file.
